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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27027883">Teo Toriatte (Let Us Cling Together)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nepenthene/pseuds/Nepenthene'>Nepenthene</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>ALL THE FLUFF, Fluff, Getting Together, Introspection, I’m so soft for this, M/M, Missing Scene, Post-Apocalypse, Remember when Tennant confirmed the hand-holding, Yeah that’s where this came from, You can stay at my place if you like</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 17:08:14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>595</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27027883</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nepenthene/pseuds/Nepenthene</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When all you have left is each other, it only makes sense to hold on tight.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>37</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Teo Toriatte (Let Us Cling Together)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>
  <i>Let us cling together as the years go by<br/>Oh my love, my love<br/>In the quiet of the night<br/>Let our candle always burn<br/>Let us never lose the lessons we have learned<i></i></i>
</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Do you believe in life after death?”</p>
<p>Aziraphale smiles reassuringly at the International Express man. “I suppose I must do.”</p>
<p>The man’s happy-go-lucky attitude becomes ever so slightly forced. “Yeah. If I was to tell my wife what happened to me today, she wouldn’t believe me.” He shudders, a tiny, terrified thing. “And I wouldn’t blame her.”</p>
<p>Poor man, Aziraphale thinks to himself as the chap loads the box into the back of his truck. Heaven knows what he remembers about the past few weeks; he seems much more aware than the other humans they’ve encountered today, and he <em> is </em> collecting the instruments of the Four Horsepeople, for goodness’ sake. Aziraphale surreptitiously flicks his fingers at the man before he drives away, soothing his mind as much as he can. There should be <em> someone </em> who’s able to get a little relief from all this upset. </p>
<p>The glare of headlights invades Aziraphale’s peripheral vision, and he and Crowley turn to look at the bus trundling slowly up the hill. Aziraphale smiles. “There it is.” Then he frowns slightly, squinting at the lit-up sign. “It says Oxford on the front.”</p>
<p>Crowley lifts one shoulder in a lazy half-shrug. “Yeah… but he’ll drive to London. He just won’t know why.”</p>
<p>Perhaps Aziraphale ought to argue with that, but he doesn’t particularly fancy staying out on this bench all night. “I suppose I should get him to drop me off at the bookshop.”</p>
<p>Crowley turns to look at him then, a heartbroken kind of pity suffusing his face. “It burned down, remember?”</p>
<p>Oh.</p>
<p>That’s right, of course.</p>
<p><em> Oh. </em> Oh, his <em> books… </em></p>
<p>“You can stay at my place, if you like.”</p>
<p>Aziraphale looks over at Crowley in surprise, startled out of his despair by the incredible <em> softness </em> and <em> hopefulness </em> of Crowley’s voice. Crowley just looks at him, his face clear and open and so very, <em> very </em> vulnerable.</p>
<p>“I don’t think my side would like that,” Aziraphale hedges faintly, mind racing.</p>
<p>Crowley doesn’t break eye contact. “You don’t have a side anymore. Neither of us do. We’re on our own side.”</p>
<p>The bus pulls up, rumbling to a stop as the doors creak open. Crowley stands, and after a moment, he hesitantly extends a hand towards Aziraphale. </p>
<p>Aziraphale swallows, his eyes flicking between Crowley’s face and the hand in front of him. Taking it would be… it would <em>mean </em>something. <em> You go too fast for me. </em></p>
<p>The moment stretches on for an eternity, the whole universe holding its breath to see what he’ll do.</p>
<p>Oh, sod it. </p>
<p>They’re on their own side, after all.</p>
<p>Aziraphale takes Crowley’s hand, allowing himself to be pulled to his feet. They board the bus, trudging back to the forward facing seats as the driver pulls away from the stop. Crowley’s grip is loose, undemanding, but Aziraphale tightens his hand determinedly as they sit down.</p>
<p>Crowley looks over at him, expression inscrutable. Aziraphale meets his gaze steadily, not backing down an inch.</p>
<p>Then Crowley smiles, and holds Aziraphale’s hand more securely in his own. And even though Above and Below are going to be coming after them, the bookshop and the Bentley are ash, and they just drank the last bottle of Chateau-Neuf de Pape Aziraphale had, something Aziraphale can’t quite name feels as if it’s settled into place.</p>
<p>You know, he thinks with a daring frisson of hope, perhaps things will work themselves out. They’ve certainly been doing a pretty bang-up job of managing themselves so far.</p>
<p>He returns Crowley’s smile, and marvels at how well their hands fit together.</p>
<p>Mysterious ways, and all that.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The title and lyrics at the beginning are from the Queen song of the same name. </p>
<p>I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Aziraphale and Crowley are soft, and make me soft, and I love them. ☺️</p>
<p>Nepenthene</p></blockquote></div></div>
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